Spenser's The Faerie Queene Part 21

And pointing forth, Lo yonder is (said she) 20 The brasen towre in which my parents deare For dread of that huge feend emprisond be, Whom I from far, see on the walles appeare, Whose sight my feeble soule doth greatly cheare: And on the top of all I do espye 25 The watchman wayting tydings glad to heare, That O my parents might I happily Unto you bring, to ease you of your misery.

IV

With that they heard a roaring hideous sound, That all the ayre with terrour filled wide, 30 And seemd uneath to shake the stedfast ground.

Eftsoones that dreadful Dragon they espide, Where stretcht he lay upon the sunny side, Of a great hill, himselfe like a great hill.

But all so soone as he from far descride 35 Those glistring armes, that heaven with light did fill, He rousd himselfe full blith, and hastned them untill.

V

Then bad the knight his Lady yede aloofe, And to an hill her selfe withdraw aside: From whence she might behold that battailles proof, 40 And eke be safe from daunger far descryde: She him obayd, and turnd a little wyde.

Now O thou sacred muse, most learned Dame, Faire ympe of Phbus and his aged bride, The Nourse of time and everlasting fame, 45 That warlike hands enn.o.blest with immortall name; VI

O gently come into my feeble brest Come gently, but not with that mighty rage, Wherewith the martiall troupes thou doest infest, And harts of great Heroes doest enrage, 50 That nought their kindled courage may aswage, Soone as thy dreadfull trompe begins to sownd, The G.o.d of warre with his fiers equipage Thou doest awake, sleepe never he so sownd, All scared nations doest with horrour sterne astownd.

VII

55 Faire G.o.ddesse, lay that furious fit aside, Till I of warres and b.l.o.o.d.y Mars do sing, And Briton fields with Sarazin bloud bedyde, Twixt that great Faery Queene, and Paynim king, That with their horrour heaven and earth did ring; 60 A worke of labour long and endlesse prayse: But now a while let downe that haughtie string And to my tunes thy second tenor rayse, That I this man of G.o.d his G.o.dly armes may blaze.

VIII

By this the dreadfull Beast drew nigh to hand, 65 Halfe flying, and halfe footing in his haste, That with his largenesse measured much land, And made wide shadow under his huge wast, As mountaine doth the valley overcast.

Approching nigh, he reared high afore 70 His body monstrous, horrible, and vaste, Which to increase his wondrous greatnesse more, Was swoln with wrath, and poyson, and with bloudy gore.

IX

And over, all with brasen scales was armd, Like plated coate of steele, so couched neare, 75 That nought mote perce, ne might his corse be harmd With dint of sword, nor push of pointed speare; Which, as an Eagle, seeing pray appeare, His aery plumes doth rouze, full rudely dight; So shaked he, that horrour was to heare, 80 For as the clashing of an Armour bright, Such noyse his rouzed scales did send unto the knight.

X

His flaggy wings when forth he did display, Were like two sayles, in which the hollow wynd Is gathered full, and worketh speedy way: 85 And eke the pennes, that did his pineons bynd, Were like mayne-yards, with flying canvas lynd; With which whenas him list the ayre to beat, And there by force unwonted pa.s.sage find, The cloudes before him fled for terrour great, 90 And all the heavens stood still amazed with his threat.

XI

His huge long tayle wound up in hundred foldes, Does overspred his long bras-scaly backe, Whose wreathed boughts when ever he unfoldes, And thicke entangled knots adown does slacke, 95 Bespotted as with shields of red and blacke, It sweepeth all the land behind him farre, And of three furlongs does but litle lacke; And at the point two stings in-fixed arre, Both deadly sharpe, that sharpest steele exceeden farre.

XII

100 But stings and sharpest steele did far exceed The sharpnesse of his cruell rending clawes; Dead was it sure, as sure as death in deed, What ever thing does touch his ravenous pawes, Or what within his reach he ever drawes.

105 But his most hideous head my toung to tell Does tremble: for his deepe devouring jawes Wide gaped, like the griesly mouth of h.e.l.l, Through which into his darke abisse all ravin fell.

XIII

And that more wondrous was, in either jaw 110 Three ranckes of yron teeth enraunged were, In which yet trickling blood, and gobbets raw Of late devoured bodies did appeare, That sight thereof bred cold congealed feare: Which to increase, and as atonce to kill, 115 A cloud of smoothering smoke and sulphure seare, Out of his stinking gorge forth steemed still, That all the ayre about with smoke and stench did fill.

XIV

His blazing eyes, like two bright shining shields, Did burne with wrath, and sparkled living fyre: 120 As two broad Beacons, set in open fields, Send forth their flames far off to every shyre, And warning give, that enemies conspyre With fire and sword the region to invade; So flam'd his eyne with rage and rancorous yre: 125 But farre within, as in a hollow glade, Those glaring lampes were set, that made a dreadfull shade.

XV

So dreadfully he towards him did pas, Forelifting up aloft his speckled brest, And often bounding on the brused gras, 130 As for great joyance of his newcome guest.

Eftsoones he gan advance his haughtie crest, As chauffed Bore his bristles doth upreare, And shoke his scales to battell ready drest; That made the Redcrosse knight nigh quake for feare, 135 As bidding bold defiance to his foeman neare.

XVI

The knight gan fairely couch his steadie speare, And fiercely ran at him with rigorous might: The pointed steele arriving rudely theare, His harder hide would neither perce, nor bight, 140 But glauncing by forth pa.s.sed forward right; Yet sore amoved with so puissaunt push, The wrathfull beast about him turned light, And him so rudely pa.s.sing by, did brush With his long tayle, that horse and man to ground did rush.

XVII

145 Both horse and man up lightly rose againe, And fresh encounter towards him addrest: But th'idle stroke yet backe recoyld in vaine, And found no place his deadly point to rest.

Exceeding rage enflam'd the furious beast, 150 To be avenged of so great despight; For never felt his imperceable brest So wondrous force, from hand of living wight; Yet had he prov'd the powre of many a puissant knight.

XVIII

Then with his waving wings displayed wyde, 155 Himselfe up high he lifted from the ground, And with strong flight did forcibly divide The yielding aire, which nigh too feeble found Her flitting parts, and element unsound, To beare so great a weight: he cutting way 160 With his broad sayles, about him soared round: At last low stouping with unweldie sway, s.n.a.t.c.ht up both horse and man, to beare them quite away.

XIX

Long he them bore above the subject plaine, So far as Ewghen bow a shaft may send, 165 Till struggling strong did him at last constraine To let them downe before his flightes end: As hagard hauke, presuming to contend With hardie fowle, above his hable might, His wearie pounces all in vaine doth spend 170 To trusse the pray too heavy for his flight; Which comming downe to ground, does free it selfe by fight.

XX

He so disseized of his gryping grosse, The knight his thrillant speare again a.s.sayd In his bras-plated body to embosse, 175 And three mens strength unto the stroke he layd; Wherewith the stiffe beame quaked, as affrayd, And glauncing from his scaly necke, did glyde Close under his left wing, then broad displayd: The percing steele there wrought a wound full wyde, 180 That with the uncouth smart the Monster lowdly cryde.

XXI

He cryde, as raging seas are wont to rore, When wintry storme his wrathfull wreck does threat The roaring billowes beat the ragged sh.o.r.e, As they the earth would shoulder from her seat, 185 And greedy gulfe does gape, as he would eat His neighbour element in his revenge: Then gin the bl.u.s.tring brethren boldly threat To move the world from off his steadfast henge, And boystrous battell make, each other to avenge.

XXII

190 The steely head stucke fast still in his flesh, Till with his cruell clawes he s.n.a.t.c.ht the wood, And quite a sunder broke. Forth flowed fresh A gushing river of blacke goarie blood, That drowned all the land, whereon he stood; 195 The streame thereof would drive a water-mill: Trebly augmented was his furious mood With bitter sence of his deepe rooted ill, That flames of fire he threw forth from his large nosethrill.

XXIII

His hideous tayle then hurled he about, 200 And therewith all enwrapt the nimble thyes Of his froth-fomy steed, whose courage stout Striving to loose the knot that fast him tyes, Himselfe in streighter bandes too rash implyes, That to the ground he is perforce constraynd 205 To throw his rider: who can quickly ryse From off the earth, with durty blood distaynd, For that reprochfull fall right fowly he disdaynd.

XXIV

And fiercely tooke his trenchand blade in hand, With which he stroke so furious and so fell, 210 That nothing seemd the puissaunce could withstand: Upon his crest the hardned yron fell, But his more hardned crest was armd so well, That deeper dint therein it would not make; Yet so extremely did the buffe him quell, 215 That from thenceforth he shund the like to take, But when he saw them come, he did them still forsake.

XXV

The knight was wroth to see his stroke beguyld, And smote againe with more outrageous might; But backe againe the sparckling steele recoyld, 220 And left not any marke, where it did light, As if in Adamant rocke it had bene pight.

The beast impatient of his smarting wound, And of so fierce and forcible despight, Thought with his wings to stye above the ground; 225 But his late wounded wing unserviceable found.

XXVI

Then full of griefe and anguish vehement, He lowdly brayd, that like was never heard, And from his wide devouring oven sent A flake of fire, that, flashing in his beard, 230 Him all amazd, and almost made affeard: The scorching flame sore swinged all his face, And through his armour all his body seard, That he could not endure so cruell cace, But thought his armes to leave, and helmet to unlace.

XXVII

235 Not that great Champion of the antique world, Whom famous Poetes verse so much doth vaunt, And hath for twelve huge labours high extold, So many furies and sharpe fits did haunt, When him the poysond garment did enchaunt, 240 With Centaures bloud and bloudie verses charm'd; As did this knight twelve thousand dolours daunt, Whom fyrie steele now burnt, that earst him arm'd, That erst him goodly arm'd, now most of all him harm'd.

XXVIII

Faint, wearie, sore, emboyled, grieved, brent 245 With heat, toyle, wounds, armes, smart, and inward fire, That never man such mischiefes did torment; Death better were, death did he oft desire, But death will never come, when needes require.

Whom so dismayd when that his foe beheld, 250 He cast to suffer him no more respire, But gan his st.u.r.dy sterne about to weld, And him so strongly stroke, that to the ground him feld.

XXIX

It fortuned, (as faire it then befell,) Behind his backe unweeting, where he stood, 255 Of auncient time there was a springing well, From which fast trickled forth a silver flood, Full of great vertues, and for med'cine good.

Whylome, before that cursed Dragon got That happy land, and all with innocent blood 260 Defyld those sacred waves, it rightly hot The well of life, ne yet his vertues had forgot.

x.x.x

For unto life the dead it could restore, And guilt of sinfull crimes cleane wash away, Those that with sicknesse were infected sore 265 It could recure, and aged long decay Renew, as one were borne that very day.

Both Silo this, and Jordan did excell, And th' English Bath, and eke the German Spau; Ne can Cephise, nor Hebrus match this well: 270 Into the same the knight back overthrowen, fell.

x.x.xI

Now gan the golden Phbus for to steepe His fierie face in billowes of the west, And his faint steedes watred in Ocean deepe, Whiles from their journall labours they did rest, 275 When that infernall Monster, having kest His wearie foe into that living well, Can high advance his broad discoloured brest Above his wonted pitch, with countenance fell, And clapt his yron wings, as victor he did dwell.

x.x.xII

280 Which when his pensive Ladie saw from farre, Great woe and sorrow did her soule a.s.say, As weening that the sad end of the warre, And gan to highest G.o.d entirely pray, That feared chance from her to turne away; 285 With folded hands and knees full lowly bent, All night she watcht, ne once adowne would lay Her daintie limbs in her sad dreriment, But praying still did wake, and waking did lament.

x.x.xIII